


Half a World Away

by EriksChampion



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Trustshipping - Freeform, pwp but cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17075780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EriksChampion/pseuds/EriksChampion
Summary: Seto hates business trips. One evening, an unexpected visit helps lighten his mood





	Half a World Away

Everything was uncomfortable at this time of night. The silence was stiff and unyielding. All the trash bins were too full, were leaking garbage out onto the street. None of the lights wanted to be on.

Seto had gotten lost on his way back to the hotel. Missed his exit and had to turn around and go back. Squinted down every darkened street and up at every stoplight and illegible street sign. Flinched as he hit every pothole.

He could feel his pulse in his eye sockets as he staggered through the lobby, into the elevator, and down the long hall of white faceless doors. He fumbled with his key and shoved open the door. Inside he dropped his briefcase and his jacket on the floor and stumbled to the bed.

He laid on his back with his limbs pinched together. He dug his head deeper into the pillow and rubbed his eyes—trying to get the ache out. But it wasn’t just between his eyes and branded across his forehead. Seto had needles between his shoulder blades. Splinters in his neck. There were hot metal knots in his abdomen, something like barbed wire that made his insides feel stiff and swollen.

There was too much noise in his head to fall asleep. The shadows on the ceiling made unfamiliar shapes. The mattress was too hard. The air too self-consciously sterile.

Seto rolled his shoulder into the pillow, ground his heels into the mattress, and groaned.

“Is it your shoulder again?”

“Yeah…” Seto felt a light go on somewhere. He propped himself up on his elbows. His vision was slightly unfocused, but when his eyes alighted on her everything else turned its back and took a step away; Isis always walked in a sphere of warm, untroubled silence. She was there, standing at the end of the bed, gazing at him. “Isis…how did you get in here?”

“They gave me an extra key at reception.”

“They just gave you a key?”

She reached down and began untying his shoes. “I asked nicely.”

Seto furrowed his brow. “…That’s disturbing. Why is the security here so sloppy?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why didn’t I see you when I came in?”

Isis swept a strand of hair behind her shoulder and smiled. “Perhaps you weren’t paying attention.”

“I think I would have noticed you,” Seto’s lips curled, his eyes briefly dropping to her thighs and swaying along with the hem of her silk slip. “Especially in that. So why don’t you tell me exactly what’s going on here?”

Isis sat beside him on the bed. “Always the skeptic. Tell me, Seto Kaiba, don’t you get tired of asking so many questions?” She leaned over him, brushing the hair out of his eyes, massaging his scalp. Her fingertips were soft and warm along the edges of his face, tracing circles and spirals on his cheeks. “Why don’t you take that part of your brain that’s so good at asking questions and let it rest for a little while?”

Seto’s eyes fluttered closed. “Because your presence here is too difficult to justify.” His voice was melting into the back of his throat. He closed his mouth and swallowed and it was honey dripping down into his stomach.

“Would you prefer that I returned home?” She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at him with a blue-gray shadow across her face.

“I—” Seto reached out, took her wrist, and kissed her knuckles and her fingertips. “I guess I’ll just have to figure it out later.”

“Hm…” She smiled and stroked his cheek. “Show me where it hurts.”

Seto guided her hands to his shoulders and she moved to straddle his sides. The weight and the warmth in her hands seeped through his skin and pooled deep in his muscles. Her fingers were strong, and each new place she reached for would ring for a moment with pain before quieting down. He was cold in all the places where they weren’t touching, and he longed to hold each lonesome patch of skin up to the light, to beg for her attention.

He watched the lines of concentration cross her face. When she noticed him staring she smiled back and seemed to glow. She leaned back in her heels and moved her hands to his collar, unlacing his tie and letting it slip onto the floor. “Would you like me to continue?”

He nodded, eyes half-lidded, head falling halfway to the side. “Yeah…”

She began to undo the buttons on his shirt, pausing after each one to pull away an inch more of the stiff fabric and massage his chest. “Do you feel better now?”

Seto reached up to touch the places where the lacy edges of her nightgown cast shadows on her chest. Her skin was delicate as spider webs there, so soft. He smiled when he felt her breath become deeper and her cheeks turn pink. “Not quite.”

“Where does it still hurt?”

“Hm—” His fingers passed soft as shadows across her collarbone, her breasts, and her stomach. ”Lower.”

Isis pointed at his belt buckle. “You mean here?”

“Almost.” Seto put his hand over hers and guided it to his groin. “Here.”

Isis laughed, and there was something in that sound that made Seto want her to pass her hands through all the empty spaces between his ribs. She tilted her head from side to side as she unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. “Yes—I do believe that this is an area where I can assist you.”

“Hm—” Her hands were on him and he felt that he could scarcely speak. “Yeah you can.”

Isis leaned over him, kissed his cheeks and his chest and the corners of his eyes, then moved her kisses downward to his waist, his hips, and up and down his erection.

Seto reached out to touch her fingers and her hair. He sighed and let his eyes slide shut as she lingered above him, hands resting on his thighs, tongue soothing every frayed thread in his body. He could feel her smooth smile and the soft, low laughter in her throat. He was half-formed and swirling in the center, looking for an outlet, looking for a place to land and shelter.

“Isis…come here?” He sat up and held her in his arms, buried his face in the nape of her neck.

She ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. “How are you feeling now?”

“Almost perfect.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her closer. She draped her thighs over his hips and they were breathing together, watching each other, sharing one mouth and one series of secret whispers. The room wafted pale lavender and rose with the smell of her breath and her warm, damp dark skin—like drowsiness and exertion and blankets in winter. Like spending hours stretched out in bed on Sundays, touching each other and twisting together until their throats were dry and the sheets were soaking. Like the escape from the maze and all its twists and corners. Like a place where he could go to run and hide and always be recognized.

For a moment his body was completely still. He just barely touched her forehead and that was enough. His eyes lingered over her face—her checks still flushed and shimmering, lips parted at the center, eyes so soft and bright and shining.

“What is it, Seto? Is something wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he murmured. “You’re so pretty.” He tried to touch her again, but she was weightless and transparent in his hands and his chest felt cold and carved out. “Why aren’t you here?”

She frowned. “But I am here, Seto.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not like this you’re not here.” He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed himself backwards, back towards the headboard. He talked into his lap, fingers digging into his forehead. “I need to wake up now.”

The darkness was sudden. So was the cold white flatness of the other side of the bed. Seto sat up slowly and squinted into the corners of the room. Just on the off chance.

But she wasn’t there. So he pulled out his phone instead.

“Hello, Seto.”

“What time is it there?”

“Around three. I’m at work.” Seto could hear her typing, as well as a distorted version of his own voice echoing across her office.

“Still editing your suit against the British Museum?”

“Yes. Why did you decide to call me? Is everything alright?”

“Tell me I’m not on speakerphone.”

There was a pause, a loud click, and then the echo disappeared. “Not anymore.”

Seto leaned back into his pillows, drawing his knees up towards his chest. “I had a dream about you.”

Her fingers hesitated on the keyboard, and when she spoke again Seto’s ears and his cheeks began to glow. “Oh really? And what was I doing in your dream?”

“Well, you weren’t wearing very much.”

He could hear her leaning back and slowly pivoting her swivel chair. She was making that half-smile she always made when she was pretending that she didn’t want to humor him. “And what else?”

“You told me not to be so skeptical.”

She laughed, and the sound echoed through his chest and made him ache with that same hollow feeling. “So at least it was realistic.”

He smiled, then sighed, trying to hold the phone closer to his ear. “How long has it been?”

“Eight days, six hours, and—forty-three minutes.”

“Not that you’re counting.”

“Of course not.”

“And how much longer?”

“Ten days, five hours, and twenty-four minutes, assuming no flight delays.”

“That’s not acceptable.”

She leaned her head to the side slightly, elbows on her desk, foot making small circles. Seto could hear it knocking softly against the leg of her desk. “So what do you suggest?”

“First, I’m going to take a long, very cold shower. Then—” He reached for the pillow on the other side of the bed, rubbed the cool flat empty fabric of the pillowcase between his fingers. “I’m going to call in sick tomorrow. Isis, didn’t you tell me earlier that you weren’t feeling well?”

She was grinning, fingertips at her collar, eyelashes fluttering. “With a twelve hour flight each way? That doesn’t sound like a very economical decision…”

“Then meet me halfway. Didn’t I ever tell you I own an island off the coast of Kauai?”

“No you don’t.”

“Just give me a few hours. I’ll make a few calls, I’ll make it happen.” She laughed again and he bit his lip. “You might be laughing but I can hear you clearing your calendar.”

“Maybe I am…Maybe I’m scheduling an appointment to inspect our latest shipment of canopic chests?”

“Your dead guys aren’t going to miss you. Me, on the other hand—”

“You mean you miss me?”

“Yeah. That’s what I mean.” He leaned against his phone. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

Seto closed his eyes and he could feel her head resting on his chest and her gentle breathing. “So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah you will.”


End file.
